


Birds

by LydiaOLydia



Category: Firefly
Genre: Angst, Gen, Mal-Centric Brooding
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-09
Updated: 2017-05-09
Packaged: 2018-10-29 22:54:57
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 374
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10863783
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LydiaOLydia/pseuds/LydiaOLydia
Summary: I'm moving some old Firefly stuff over here.Just a little Mal-centric brooding.





	Birds

Inara's latest client was a fabric merchant. He had given her a "tip" in the form of a beautiful blue cloth covered with swirling silver filigree. She'd spread it out on the cargo bay with white linen underneath to keep it clean. All the women were gathered around, stroking and admiring it.

Mal stood on the catwalk and took a moment to enjoy something awful close to civilized. Women talking about clothes.

"Look at them, like hens scratching at a bit of feed." Jayne was clearly disgusted.

"They're not hens, they're birds." He didn't realize he'd said the words aloud till he'd heard Jayne's snort of disbelief.

"Mal, it's the same thing," Jayne said. He walked away muttering about some captains thought they was so damn smart.

Mal knew birds. Eli, one of the old farmhands had taught him a bit and he learned more on his own. It was useful, that's all. Just about every planet had 'em. If you knew their ways you could follow them to water, or trees or a dead animal. Not that he was looking on carrion as a treat, but a man didn't want to starve either.

Zoe? That was easy. She was a hawk. Still and quiet till she had to swoop in for a kill. Then, deadly. River. He called her Albatross, but really she was a magpie. Taking things that didn't belong to her and making something new and strange. Not to mention her unsettling way she had of cocking her head and looking right through you. Kaylee was a wren, small and kind of plain at first sight, but with a pretty song that cheered other folks up.

Inara. . . Mal didn't know the right name for the type of bird she was. He'd seen them in the market stalls at the Core planets. Bright pretty feathers of a million colors, but always behind the bars of a golden cage. They belonged to the old Earth that was and had never found a home here. Inara touched the fabric again. Her fingers hovered lightly, lovingly. He knew she was thinking about a place with good smells and lots of food and frillies. Those lonely birds with sad dark eyes. That was Inara for sure.


End file.
